


in your promises, i found truth

by ladykestrel



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, in which skye and ward get stuck in an all too familiar situation, set after 2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:57:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3104699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladykestrel/pseuds/ladykestrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because history has a funny way of repeating itself, but it doesn't necessarily go the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in your promises, i found truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allthesongsmakesense](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthesongsmakesense/gifts).



What a goddamn disaster.

This was all the coherency Skye’s brain could form. It was too busy evaluating the situation. Her current predicament did not call for rational thoughts. No, it called for trusting your intuitions. Forget logic, she needed to be back on her feet.

The ropes at her ankles put that perspective into shade. And the ones biding her hands together behind her back just plunged her escape plans into complete darkness. Skye wriggled in the uncomfortable metal chair. She groaned when her latest attempt didn’t make her bonds give. The ground beneath swayed a little.   _So much for that,_ Skye thought.

“There’s no use, they’re tied too tightly,” came a voice from the next chair over. “Must’ve been boy scouts back in the day.” Skye rolled her eyes at her former S.O.’s chuckle. It was not funny. (Especially not coming from him.) She wriggled again.

Grant Ward looked over to her. His eyes took in her ridiculous attempts at freeing herself. The man let out an exasperated sign. “Stop it, Skye.” This was irritating him. _Good_.

“If you have any better ideas, now is the time to share them, Ward.” The rough material burned the skin on her wrists. The metal of the chair dug into Skye’s back. Her arms were getting cramped from being in the same uncomfortable position for so long. How long had they been tied up for now? Hours? The wait was almost as unbearable as the sting of the ropes.

Silence settled over the two of them again. After another few failed attempts, Skye let her hands drop. Useless. She didn’t want to admit that the bastard was right. Instead, she focused on her surroundings.

The room was small and rectangular, exactly what you’d expect from a basement. The walls were painted beige and crusted with years worth of dirt. Aside from the two chairs, there wasn’t much furniture. There wasn’t much of anything, really. It was obvious the basement had not been used often, at least not recently. Perhaps they were the first hostages in a while. Skye felt honored.

The air had a stale taste to it, bringing even more truth to the abandonment theory. If only a window could be opened up to let fresh air in. But there were no windows. It was just walls and a door, which was bolted shut and locked on the outside. Even if it weren’t, neither Skye, nor Ward could’ve done anything about it. Their hands were tied. Literally.

Skye was staring to doze off when she heard a key twist. Then there was a metallic groan, the door scraping against the floor. Her mind was immediately alert, sleep evaporating like smoke. From the corner of her eye,  Skye saw Ward tense.

“Well, don’t you look pretty as a button,” the newcomer mocked. He was looking straight at Skye, his face ridden with amusement. With a face splattered with dried blood, cuts and bruises decorating her cheeks and lips, Skye was very aware exactly how _pretty_ she looked. Pretty as hell.  If her hands weren’t bound, she would’ve flipped him off. Instead, Skye settled with look that oozed defiance. The man before her laughed like one would laugh at a child. A hand went up to touch her face. Skye wished her legs were free.

“Good thing we’re underground,” the mercenary said as the ground shook and he tried to regain his footing. Skye could only smile at him innocently. Next to her, Ward was as still as a statue. If looks could kill, this guy would’ve died ten times over by now.

“Yes, it’s a good thing you rodents prefer dumps like these.” Even in captivity, Grant Ward was still as smug as ever. Skye wondered if he was doing it just to spite the man or for her benefit. Maybe it was both. With Grant Ward, one could never be sure.

The guy turned his attention away from Skye and planted his large his square into Ward’s face. The blow almost knocked him back along with his chair. “Have some respect,” the merc told him. Ward spit blood on his shoes as a response. That rewarded him with another punch. Them their captor went around each and tightened the hold of their ropes. With a few tugs, he was done and out the door.

Before she could stop herself, Skye opened her mouth to speak. “Do you have to provoke everyone all the time?”

“I did it on purpose and you know that.” Ward turned his head so he could fully look at her. “I wasn’t about to let him put his hands on you like that.”

“So you got yourself punched in the face twice? Hate to break it to you, Ward, but your logic is about as solid as air.”

His nose was bloodied and a few of his earlier scrapes had reopened. Ward’s left eye was almost entirely shut and beginning to swell. “It got him to stop touching you. That’s all that matters.”

Skye couldn’t look him in the eyes any longer. The intensity with which he regarded her was too much.  She titled her head and looked at her lap. It was not so long ago that they’d been in almost the exact same situation. Only, then he’d been farther away from her. Then, it had been easier to breathe because she hadn’t been under the scrutiny of Ward’s gaze. Then, he’d helped untie her after her whack job of a father freed him from his own binds. Then, she’d shot him in the chest the first chance she got. Then, she’d left him behind, not bothering to even look back and check if he’d live.  Then, she’d still been human.

Skye derailed her train of thought immediately. She would not go down that road. Not here, not now.

Ward’s look changed to confusion, then to concern. But he never stopped looking at her. Skye almost snapped at him to quit it.

The truth was, her life was just a big puzzle.

The truth was, Grant Ward was a piece she couldn’t place.

Skye wasn’t sure if she even wanted to. She wasn’t sure _he_ wanted to be placed. Ever since escaping from them, from avoiding his brother’s custody, Grant Ward had been the biggest mystery to solve. He threatened to blow a whole bus full of civilians. He’d wrapped up Sunil Bakshi neatly like a present and handed him over to Coulson. Then he’d gone right back into Hydra’s tentacle embrace. “I’m not loyal to Hydra,” he’d told her. He’d turned his gun on Whitehall when Hydra soldiers had turned their owns on her. Whose side was he on, Skye had to wonder.

But deep down, she already knew the answer. That Grant Ward was done choosing sides. He was not just a piece that did not fit. No, Ward was the entire puzzle. She only needed to put his motives in order. Which proved easier said than done.

The aftermath of his betrayal made figuring Ward out difficult. Skye faced dilemmas every time Ward shed his skin, every time his colours changed. Her own feelings were in the way. She battled hate with heartbreak, with confusion, with a desire for indifference. She usually let the hatred win, in the end. Hatred was black and white. It was easy to figure out.

Hatred did not confuse her.

The floor shook again. Skye wondered when Ward would notice how often that happened. She wondered when he’d say anything about it. He had to have his suspicions. Going rogue did not mean leaving behind years of training. Nor did it keep him from using his assets.

If only she could use hers. But apart from the large quake that she struck the temple with months ago, and the few odd tremors, Skye had reached the limits of her control over the strange abilities she’d come into possessing. No matter how much they frightened or repulsed her, these powers would have helped her out of this mess. It was about time to admit they were a part of her.

But they were still useless.

What good did it do to have alien abilities when you couldn’t control them?

They must have been silent for too long, because it was now Ward that was fidgeting in his chair. “We have to get out of here,” he said.

“ _There’s no use_ ,” Skye told him, echoing his words. Ward, however, did not cease his wriggling. Skye found herself rolling her eyes for the second time that day.

“It looks like we’re going to be here for a while,” Ward mused as his wrists kept straining against the ropes.  

“Hate to break it to you, Ward, but we’ve already been here a while. Stop stating the obvious.”

Instead of snapping back at her, Ward said, “I’m going to get you out of here, Skye. _I promise_.” And once again, Skye had to turn away.

The emphasis on _promise_ did not go unnoticed.

He’d promised her so many things.

Escape was proving to be nearly impossible, having nothing but their bare hands to scrape at the ties. Yet, even those were wasted, since the ropes were too thick, tied too tight. But when he’d spoken, Ward’s voice had been laced with certainty. He believed they’d make it out. He believed he had told her the truth, promised her on it. _Do you ever tell the truth_ , Skye wanted to ask, her instinct to reject everything about him snapping into place. But she knew.

In his twisted logic, Ward had kept every promise he’d made her. Including the one where he vowed to never lie to her again.

“Just make it fast,” she mumbled.  Because she had come to believe in his promises too.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for this sucking so bad, but everything always turns out crappy when I'm trying to snap out of a writer's block.


End file.
